


Catharsis

by lincyclopedia



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alcohol, Bars and Pubs, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2019, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, POV First Person, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Post-Book 2: Wayward Son, Post-Canon, Present Tense, Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21677974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lincyclopedia/pseuds/lincyclopedia
Summary: Baz and Dev get drinks and complain about the adults in their family. For the Carry On Countdown prompt "side character."
Relationships: Dev & Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2019





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> This is set an indeterminate number of years after Wayward Son. SnowBaz and DeNiall are both going concerns, but those relationships aren't tagged because neither Simon nor Niall is "on screen" in this story.

I hadn’t realized how cathartic this would be. Going to the pub with Dev and absolutely roasting all the adults in our family. I mean, not that Dev and I aren’t adults. But the older generations. We’re leaving Fiona out of it, mostly—we would even if I liked her less, since Dev is a Grimm, not a Pitch—but we’re complaining about my father and Dev’s father and our grandmother. Complaining about our grandmother is probably in poor taste, since she died a couple of years ago, but she absolutely passed along her worst traits to both of our fathers. I tell myself that it’s okay for me to complain about dead people since I’m dead myself (Simon would deny that, but I’m pretty sure I’m right). I don’t know what Dev’s telling himself. Maybe, three beers deep, he doesn’t need to tell himself anything. 

“When I came out to my father,” I say, “he told me that I was mistaken. He said it was a phase and I’d grow out of it.” 

Dev’s eyes go wide. “No way! Seriously?”

“Yep,” I say. Now there’s a word I’ve picked up from Simon. “Why do you think I didn’t come out to you and Niall until eighth year? My father had me convinced that no one would ever accept my gayness.” 

“Fuck, that’s . . . that’s really fucking shitty, mate,” says Dev. “I mean, my father told me I was going to get AIDS, but at least he _believed me_.” 

“Your father _told you that you were going to get AIDS_?” I demand. 

Dev nods. “Yeah. I told him that I know how to use condoms and he just stood there spluttering for a while and then stormed out of the room. You know Grimms can never have a sane conversation about sex.” 

“Hear, hear,” I say. “For Chomsky’s sake, sex education is a _good thing_. It helps people not get AIDS! Why do they have to act like it’s all so fucking taboo?”

Dev rolls his eyes. “They’re stuck in the Dark Ages, mate.” 

“That they are,” I agree. “At least Father and Daphne have been okay about me being a vampire.” Dev and Niall have known what I am since shortly after Simon, Bunce, Wellbelove, and I returned from that disastrous trip to America. It didn’t take me all that long to realize that I needed to process everything that had happened with someone who wasn’t part of the group, someone whose first loyalty wasn’t Simon or Bunce or Wellbelove. Since, for good reason, I didn’t trust Father or Daphne to play that role, I called up Dev and Niall. We hadn’t spoken much my first year of uni, but we started talking more after America happened, and we’ve kept it up since. I’m immensely glad of it. Bunce says the point of having siblings is to have someone around who understands how dysfunctional your parents are, but my siblings are too young and their upbringing has been too different from mine for us to have that sort of relationship. I’m grateful to have Dev to fill that role instead. His father and my father are brothers, and they’re a lot alike, in all the worst ways. 

“That is good,” Dev says. “It still must have been hard, though, given how your mother died.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” I say. “And I wish Father or Daphne would have acknowledged the fact that I’m a vampire more than just one time when I was eighteen, but not talking about it is better than open hostility, or, you know, turning my over to the Coven to be staked.” 

“That shouldn’t have to be our bar for what’s okay, though,” Dev insists, suddenly earnest. “Like, we should be able to expect actual care and support, not thank our lucky stars when we get indifference rather than hostility.” 

“You’re right,” I agree. “But I’m still acutely aware that I’m supposed to be dead, and I’m not. I mean, not all the way. And that’s down to the discretion of each person I’ve told.” 

“You’re not dead, and you’re not supposed to be dead, either,” says Dev. 

I roll my eyes. “You sound like Simon.” 

“Well, he’s right. Maybe you should listen to your fiance.” 

I love hearing the word “fiance.” Especially when Simon says it, but I’ll take Dev’s reference to Simon, too. I can’t stop a soft smile from spreading across my face, and I say, “Yeah, yeah, all right.”

“All right, you’re not dead?” Dev presses. 

I sigh. “All right, I’m not dead,” I acquiesce. I don’t really believe I’m alive, but I’m not in the mood to fight about it right now. 

“Good,” says Dev. Then he smiles, looking like he might laugh, and says, “Did you know that the first time I took Niall home as my boyfriend my father made him sleep in the guest bedroom and set up wards to prevent me from getting in there and prevent Niall from getting into my room?”

“Merlin, seriously?” I ask. 

“Yeah,” says Dev. “We wound up both sleeping in the basement, and we didn’t even pretend we weren’t. I mean, we were 19 by this point. We were of age. What right did he have to determine where we slept?”

“At some point they have to accept that we’re adults, and that we can make our own decisions,” I say. 

“I’m still waiting on that,” says Dev.

“Oh, so am I,” I say. 

Dev raises his glass. “To someday being treated like an adult, and to less homophobia,” he toasts. 

“I’ll drink to that,” I say. I clink my glass with his, and we both drain our drinks.


End file.
